Page 42 of Condemned By Pain
“I don’t play silly games.”
I raise a brow. “Don’t tell me you play shooting games with him.”
He ignores my joke and looks at Bruno.
“Come.”
Then he turns back into the gym. Bruno and I follow him inside.
The gym is huge. One half is filled with weights and machines; the other is an open expanse covered in thick black mats and features a raised platform. Rings hang from the ceiling, and thick ropes lie coiled against the wall.
I have no idea what any of it is for, I’ve never had any interest in watching people pant and sweat. And as for my own workout, I’m lazy enough to consider climbing the stairs a proper workout.
Bruno’s gait changes as he follows the man. He isn’t behaving like a cute puppy now, it’s more the stride of a predator. Bruno, in serious work mode.
My captor picks up a harness and looks at Bruno.
“Sit.”
Bruno sits instantly. The man crouches down, fitting the harness around Bruno’s chest, giving me a nice view of his broad back. I openly ogle his hot body while he keeps his focus on Bruno.
He adds small weights to the sides of the harness. Bruno sits there solemnly, his tail wagging only now and then, and when it does, the sweep is broad, unlike the quick little wags he gives when I play with him.
“Stay,” he commands before rising and stepping back.
He then points toward the ramp. “Up.”
Bruno runs and scales it easily, as if he’s carrying no weight at all. He jumps down cleanly, landing on the mat without a sound.
“Again.”
This time, the man throws a thick rope across the floor. Bruno clears it effortlessly. He nods once. I don’t think Bruno expects praise from him.
He picks up a thick leather tug and straps it to his forearm, then plants his feet wide, knees bent slightly—and no, I do not look at his ass. Nor do I salivate over it.
“Take.” He bites out the command.
Bruno charges and leaps, his teeth clamping onto the leather. My captor doesn’t pull back. Bruno growls low, his muscles straining under the harness.
“Out.”
For a second, I think it’s meant for me, but then Bruno drops to all fours, and I realize it’s for him.
He gestures, and Bruno attacks his other arm. I close my eyes, flinching at the sheer intensity of their actions. Unable to watch more, I look away and decide to explore the gym equipment.
I wander among the machines, Bruno’s growls echoing behind me. But I don’t turn to watch my little puppy behaving like a wild animal.
Finding nothing of interest, I stop near the dumbbells. I pick up the smallest one to test my strength. I manage to liftit. I set it down and reach for a slightly heavier pair. I lift them up, and my shoulders nearly wrench from their sockets under the strain.
I groan, trying to lower them—when two gloved hands wrap around mine from behind, lifting the dumbbells easily and placing them back on the rack. I’m left breathless. He removes his hands from over mine; I let go and turn.
He’s standing close. His hair is plastered to his forehead, sweat streaming down his face. Waves of heat radiate from him. And of course I’m finding him hot as hell, his heat practically sears my skin from standing this close.
I lick my suddenly dry lips. His eyes follow the movement. My already racing heart drums even harder.
Bruno saves me from a potential heart attack by wedging himself between us. His face goes straight for my crotch. He’s been doing this a lot since yesterday.
But this time, Bruno gets a smack on the head. He looks up at my captor. I look at him too—he’s glaring at Bruno.
